


A Gift Given Freely

by beingbaz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingbaz/pseuds/beingbaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst of it has come: Draco's engaged to someone else, and Harry was never ready to let go, even back when. Bitterly, Harry sends Draco a note of unwanted congratulations, which spurs choices he may never be able to take back. In all, the fallout is more than either of them expected.</p><p>Inspired by the song "One Year, Six Months" by Yellowcard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gift Given Freely

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All copyrights belong to their respective owners. I make no money from this, and merely wrote it for fun.   
> Written in 2004 for fun, edited recently. Enjoy!
> 
> No beta, all mistakes my own.

**Chapter One**

I read about it in a week old clipping from the Daily Prophet. Ron sent it to me, along with a note - even the note itself seemed to snigger: _Ha! Lookit, Harry, somebody's marrying the git!_ Ron's normal-type letter followed after it.

My jaw dropped as I read the clipping, a cold ball forming in my stomach, and tears trying to form in my eyes. Malfoy was getting married to a girl who'd graduated a few years ahead of us, whose name I couldn't recall anymore. I put the side of my hand to my mouth and bit down, trying to stem the sounds that came out of my throat when I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

Draco, my dragon, was getting married.

I don't know how long I cried, but my hand stung sharply when I gained control of myself enough to quit biting it. _How could he?_ I thought. But then again, I could understand how he could. He had to follow family expectations. His mother wanted him to be straight and to marry a woman - so Draco would.

Lucius Malfoy had been killed fighting alongside Voldemort in the final battle. Draco had never taken that well. Draco had much wanted to fight with his father in that battle; not to be on Voldemort's side, per se - just to be with his father, as he was Lucius' pride. But Draco didn't join up with Voldemort's ranks, didn't stand with his father and bear the Dark Mark. And the reason for that was simple: I'd allied myself with the side of good, and Draco didn't want to chance having to try and kill me. Nor did Draco join the side of good, not wanting to chance going against his father.

I took up a piece of paper and quill, and scribbled a few quick words. _Dear Mr. Malfoy, I've heard you're getting married and wanted to offer my congratulations. Happy life to you. Sincerely, Lit_

Lit had been my nickname, my secret pet name from my dragon. Short for Lightning Bolt, a play on my scar. Affectionately, I'd called him Dragon, as that's what his name meant. Draco, my dragon, as I'd thought of him.

Before it got too late, I hurried from my house and went to the nearest Owlery, and rented an owl to deliver my letter. Hedwig would have been too obvious for him - he may not even have opened the missive. But a brown barn owl, plain, though lovely, would not stand out nearly so much.

The owl was sent, and I went back home. To cry more, perhaps, and to sleep.

**Chapter Two**

Draco and I were dearest enemies, in a very basic way, until one accidental Saturday. I met up with him on my way into the library, passing insults, and continued on to where Hermione was sitting. Ron was still in the Gryffindor common room, but I had studying to do for Transfiguration, and worked well with Hermione when it came to the homework and studying angle.

Time passed quicker than I thought when Hermione popped up and said she had to go, she needed to meet Ron. From the flush in her cheeks, I was betting a quick trip to the Astronomy Tower - which would, probably, start with embarrassed chatter about the stars and end up with them kissing. Ron had told me that he and Hermione had kissed there before.

It made me smile to think of my dearest friends together. Made me wonder who was out there for me. I'd had no sexual preference specifically in my earlier school years, although it was a shock in my fourth year to realize I'd had a crush on Oliver Wood - and it was too late to fret about it, really, as Wood had graduated the year past. But still, after that shock, I kept my eyes open for both boys and girls who interested me, although I didn't tell anyone. Sure, Hermione would have listened sweetly enough, probably, wished me well, but Ron... well... Ron was a bit more homophobic than she was. It'd take him longer to adjust. And, in my fifth year, when I realized my attraction was mainly for boys, I kept that a secret as well.

But this was my sixth year in school, and still no one knew about me. Or my hated secret crush. Sometimes, I've found, there comes a point in hatred that things change a bit. Sure, you can still hate them. But it's different. You might even respect them on some levels, watch them secretly from the corner of your eye with a little smile on your face, wonder what it might be like if you were friendly. Still, you hate them, but it has a love balance that you may hate even more. Draco was that crush, and though I liked the warm feelings I got, I felt like a traitor for having them in the first place.

I'd been scratching out notes with my quill when the librarian, Madam Pince, walked by and whispered to me that she was leaving me briefly, as Dumbledore had summoned her to his office for a bit. I was the only one in the library, and she trusted me as much as she trusted most students - plus, with the spells she's placed on the books, I'm pretty sure she wasn't that worried about anything I might do to them.

Madam Pince dimmed several of the lights as she went out, the general sign that the library was closed, but not the ones near my table, and left me to my studying.

"Well, what's this, Potter, doing a little homework to suck up to McGonagall?" I heard as I was scratching out yet another note copied from a book.

"Go away, Ferret, I've things to do without you bothering me." Oh, up to that day, I loved that nasty little nickname for him, it always riled him up.

"Don't call me that, Potter, not when I've come to give you something."

I pursed my lips disbelievingly, an eyebrow raising in derision. "Really? The great Ferret come bearing a gift for me? Be still my beating heart." I turned the page of the book, dismissing him. "Take your little toad, or rat, or whatever it is you've brought and leave me be. I'm working."

"You're going to want this, Potter, believe me. I suppose I could give it to your little friend, the Weasel, but I doubt he'd take it as well as me."

I looked up then, to find Draco sitting in the chair next to me. My heartbeat picked up a bit. Me and Draco, all alone in a dimly lit library, with the thrill of not knowing when Madam Pince would return.... _Be still my beating heart, indeed._

I sighed, hiding my thoughts. "Well, what is it?" I asked, sounding very put-upon.

Draco just looked at me a moment, his face unreadable. After, I might have thought his expression uncertain, but then I merely thought he was trying to figure out how best to torment me.

He reached into his robes, withdrew his hand - and instead of the wand I expected along with a great laugh at my stupidity - he held out a folded-over piece of paper to me. I frowned and reached for it, my eyes widening when I recognized the paper.

Inside, unfolded, the note read: _Dear Draco, I wish I knew what you really thought about me. And I wish I didn't feel this way about you._ And although it was scribbled out, if you looked closely, the _H_ and a bit of the _y_ from my first name were visible.

I looked up at Draco with baffled, horror-sticken eyes. My voice was hoarse and nearly whisper-soft when I asked, "Where did you get this? And what do you want?"

Draco smirked a little. "I saw you throw it away after Potions class. Thought I'd be an arse and pick it up for you." Draco blinked, then continued, "Then I read your little love letter."

"Yes," I whispered, my head bowed as I felt tears start to form. _Everyone will hate me, I know it. It's bad enough being The-Boy-Who-Lived. Now I'll be That-Disgusting-Gay-Boy-Who-Lived...._

I felt a hand rest gently on my head as I quietly cried. "Potter," Draco said softly. I couldn't look at him.

"Just leave me alone, Malfoy. Go on, spread the word with your little friends. The-Boy-Who-Lived is just a fucking faggot, a sick, perverted, twisted little boy who no one should ever love. Go on. Go do your job. You've hated me for forever. Well, now you've got a reason for everyone else to hate me along with you."

I bowed my head forward onto the table, scooting the book aside and crying into my arms.

"Harry," Draco said softly, and I turned my face towards him, looking at him through my tears.

"What? What can you possibly want now?"

It was then that Draco tilted his head to the side, slightly, and tugged at my arm. "Come here."

"What?" I whispered, feeling silly for repeating myself.

Draco tugged my arm again, and the next thing I know, I'd followed his directions and was in his lap, crying in his arms, my face buried in that place where shoulder meets neck. Draco was shushing me softly, running a hand down my back, and the other holding me tightly.

When I regained my equilibrium enough I noticed a few things. Malfoy wasn't laughing at me, he hadn't run off to tell the world my secret, and he was holding me as I sat in his lap. I swallowed and eased back, looking at him.

He smirked in a gentle sort of way. "You look like shit, Potter."

"Why aren't you out shouting it from the rooftops, Malfoy? Why? What do you want from me?"

"Draco." I stared at him blankly for a second. "You could write it in a letter, but you can't say it to me, just once?" he demanded, ignoring everything else I'd said.

My chin wobbled a bit as I swallowed. "Why, Draco?"

"Because, Harry," he said, licking his lips and looking at me with his gorgeous eyes, "I like you."

"What? No, you hate m--!" was as far as I got before Draco had leaned forward and pulled my head towards his simultaneously, kissing me soundly. I felt like I was on fire. This had to be a dream, right?

I brought my hands over his shoulders and into his glorious blond hair, feeling its softness and loving it. He nipped at my bottom lip to get me to open my mouth, then we were really kissing, tongues tangling, teeth bumping, and our breathing coming fast. I don't remember who groaned, but someone did, and I could feel myself getting... excited, kissing Draco. And, from my position on his lap, I could tell Draco was excited as well.

When we parted mouths, each panting, I rested my forehead against his, looking into his eyes.

Draco's eyes were so soft, and for the first time I saw his real smile. He was... beautiful shouldn't be the word for it, but that's what it was, what he was when he smiled.

He was the first to speak. "You really do like me, don't you? This isn't just a fluke, isn't just me, right?"

"No, it's not just you, Draco. But... I thought you were straight. How many girls of your house have you supposedly slept with this year alone?"

"Harry," Draco said, a slight blush staining his fair skin, "that's different. That's expected of me, to chase the skirts. I've never loved them. And never felt for them the way I feel for you, right now, after kissing you."

"Do it again," I said, moving my lips to his. We kissed for a while longer, each exploring the other's mouth. I cupped the back of his head in my hand as I tasted him, and he slid one of this hands inside my school robes and under the back of my uniform shirt. It was a tormenting kind of heaven to feel his hand on my back, on my skin... yet to know that it could go no further than that at the time.

A quiet murmur whispered through the library, frightening Draco and me mid-kiss. Luckily for us, it was a spell to remind the leftover students that the library was closing shortly, and to gather up our things, and head back to our common rooms.

I took the book I'd been reading back to the shelf I'd found it on, and went back to find Draco gone from his chair. I blinked, then stared in shock. _Gone?! What?_ There was the little letter I'd written, next to the notes I'd written out for Transfiguration.

Underneath where I'd scribbled out my name, it now read: _Dear Harry, I like you. Meet me at the Astronomy Tower on Tuesday, at one a.m. It was nice kissing you. I won't say anything if you won't. See you then. Yours, Draco_

I grinned, just barely kept myself from gleefully shouting aloud, and tucked the note into my robes. I couldn't wait 'til Tuesday.

A few people were in the Gryffindor common room when I got in, and I hurried past everyone straight to my dormitory. I quickly changed, and buried Draco's reply in my trunk. Shortly after, while I attempted to get to sleep, I could feel bubbling laughter trying to escape from me. Happiness - which I thought I understood well - had never felt this sweet before.

That Tuesday, Draco and I decided we could be together, but in secret. I suggested it, but Draco didn't seem to mind. He even seemed to understand all of the _why_ 's of it.

Draco and I got together in secret as often as we could that year, sneaking kisses and falling in love, then sneaking much more than kisses.

Our first time together had been over Christmas break. For once both Ron and Hermione had gone home to be with their families - every Gryffindor save for one girl, a first year I didn't know, had all gone home for the holidays. There were only a couple of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins as well, so there really wasn't much feuding going on.

I got Draco into my common room by whispering the password to the Fat Lady, and opening the door wide so she couldn't see Draco slip in with me. It was just after dinner, and the other girl was off with some Hufflepuff friend I noticed her conversing with over break.

I led Draco up the stairs to my dorm, my lovely empty dorm now. It was all sweet kisses and tenderness as Draco and I undressed each other, as we came to know each other's nude bodies on my bed. I'd never had any kind of sex before, but Draco eased me into it, whispering endearments and sweet names. He was kissing me as he eased into me, my erection between our bodies as he pushed his length - such an incredible length! - into my body.

Soon - but not too soon - Draco made me orgasm, and the next thing I knew, he was coming inside me, kissing me hard as he groaned his release. We rested a bit, with him on top of me, my arms around him as I kissed all of him that I could reach. After a little bit of time, Draco and I made love again, this time with me entering him, so I could see how great it felt to have him under me.

There had never been anything more perfect than when we fell asleep in my bed, wrapped up in each other, tired and oh so content. If this really was a dream, I never wanted it to end.

That summer holiday with the Dursleys was hell. To the rest of the world, Draco and I were still enemies, and so had to act as such. We weren't even able to write to each other. I had never known how much I'd miss him, how I'd ache to hear his voice, feel his touch. To just know I could find him somewhere nearby if I needed to.

When we got back to school, no later then the second day did I get an owl - a school owl - at breakfast. To the unknowing eye, the letter was no more than a quote. _"At midnight, a well lit and well loved tower cannot fall into disrepair." - S. Dragon_ But I could understand it, as it was written in the code Draco and I had devised. Simple, certainly, but understood only by those who knew what it was supposed to mean - to know to look deeper into it than just a simple quote. " _At midnight_ " was "Meet me at midnight tonight." " _A well lit and well loved_ " was "I love you, Lit, and hope you're well." " _Tower_ " meant the Astronomy Tower, of course. And " _S. Dragon_ " was "Sincerely, Dragon."

I found so much joy with Draco, my beloved dragon. We'd nearly attacked each other in the tower, kissing desperately hard, tugging at clothes, touching as much as we could reach. It eventually ended with him taking me, right there, up on the open rooftop. We were very lucky we went undiscovered. I'd missed him so much.

That year was wonderful, even if it was hard. The final battle came, and the bloodshed was awful. Draco and I were together when we could be, but the time for us grew fewer and fewer as things escalated.

Then, finally, it was all over. Voldemort and his kith were defeated. Voldemort nearly killed me, but I got him in the end.

I woke up in the hospital after the fight, the battle, to find Hermione and Ron at my bedside, staring at me out of scared yet happy eyes. They hugged me hard, and told me how they'd been so afraid for me. So proud of me, now that Voldemort was finally dead, that those who followed him were either dead or would be punished as they deserved.

They left me with tired eyes and relieved smiles, and shortly after, I fell back asleep. Draco gently shook me awake later that night, when he thought it was safe for him to come and see me.

He climbed up onto the hospital bed with me, gathered me in his arms, and cried, his whole body shaking.

"Oh, gods, Harry! I was never more scared in my life! Oh, gods!" he cried, trying to keep his voice down. I could feel him quivering, and wrapped my arms around him as best I could, weak though I was.

He kissed me gently, as if he was assuring himself I was alive, truly alive. And I quickly coaxed him into much rougher kisses, assuring him that he wasn't hurting me, and this kind of thing could only aid in my recovery.

That next morning... I woke to find Draco still holding me, asleep. I wondered, briefly, what had woken me. I turned my head to the left, and there was Hermione, her hand slapped over her gaping mouth. On the other side was Ron, his face red, and his lips moving, though no sound came out.

Ron, however, was the first to recover his senses enough to speak. "What the bloody hell is this, Harry?"

Draco started to stir at his words. "This is..." I paused, uncertain. I looked down to see Draco blink his eyes open and smile his wonderful smile. He moved a bit, to kiss me gently on the mouth.

"What the bloody hell are you doing in bed with him, Harry?" Ron said, quiet and furious. It was obvious he was trying to not attract attention to himself, to any of us. Draco's head whipped over to face Ron, his lovely fair skin paling even more.

I swallowed, and looked at Draco, unsure. "Ron, Draco is my..."

Draco understood, but didn't say anything. His face went blank in a way I couldn't read. His protective mask is the best guess I can come up with. Protection? Bracing oneself for bad news?

I cleared my throat, looking into his eyes, trying to see what he thought. "Draco is my boyfriend, Ron."

Before Ron could speak, Hermione asked, "Do you love him then, Harry?" I saw no hatred in her eyes. Only a kind of sympathy and kindness.

"Yes," I said quietly, wanting to clutch Draco to me, but just trying to keep from trembling instead.

"This is why you've been sneaking off so much. To go off and... I don't know what with him!"

"Why didn't you tell us, Harry?" Hermione asked. I didn't say anything, but my eyes flicked from Ron, to Draco, and then back to her. "Ah," she said. "I see now."

"I just don't understand this," Ron mumbled.

"You wouldn't, Weasley," Draco said, removing himself from my bed on Hermione's side. He then went to stand at the foot of it.

"Draco, where are you going?"

He put that snide little droll into his voice. The one he used to make it seem as though he thought himself better than everyone. "Well, I planned to tell Potter something this morning before you two showed up."

He was lying, he had to be. He has this little tell, when he's lying. Before he lies, he kind of bites the inside of his bottom lip, right corner. I watched for the tell, watch for the little bite that meant he was lying. If it came, it was so quick, I didn't notice it.

"Oh, really, and what's that, you bloody Ferret?" Ron snapped, his eyes angry.

"Just that it was over." My heartbeat sped up to a billion kilometers per hour, then hit a brick wall and smashed into itty bitty pieces as he continued. He looked into my eyes briefly, then turned to look at Ron, taunting him. "Potter was a nice little diversion, a fun little tryst until I finished school. To think, I bedded the famous Harry Potter, took his virginity in fact. What a tale to tell, if I chose."

"You had better not tell anyone, you bastard," Ron ground out between clenched teeth. Hermione said nothing, merely took my hand, staring at Draco.

"He was tasty, to be sure. So innocent and sweet. And all mine, for a time. But it's time for each of us to move on." Draco looked at me now, his eyes hard. "I'm sorry, Potter," he said, tipping his head to one side. "I don't love you, I'm not in love with you. You were just a bit of fun."

"Liar," I said, my throat squeezing in on me painfully tight. I knew I was crying, had to be, and there was a terrible ache in my chest. "You know it was more. You love me. Why won't you just admit it? Why are you hurting me like this?"

Draco blinked a few times, just looking at me. Then he half-smiled, a smile that didn't include his eyes. "Potter, I don't love you. Accept it. I mean, I know I'm a great catch, but did you really expect me to stay with you?"

I cried open-mouthed at this, my lips quivering, my breathing shaky. "Draco, you've sufficiently killed me. You've done whatever it is you've come to do." I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes, beginning to bawl. "Just go away and leave me alone. Never come near me again. I love you, I'll never be able to stop that, but.... You can go now, clear conscience. I'm nothing to you and I know it. Have a nice life, Malfoy."

I tugged my hand free from Hermione's, pulled my blanket over my head, pulled one side of the pillow over my face, and sobbed for all I was worth.

After a time - one I spent praying to hear from Draco, a word, a note to say he never meant it at all; something that never happened - I was able to open up to Hermione and talk. She was all little smiles and soft words as I told her about Draco and me. She was happy I'd found love for however long, because, as she reminded me - "Not everyone gets to even experience love in their lifetime, Harry. Even if it ends terribly, at least you got to have it in the first place." She told me, also, with that cheeky little smile she has, that she'd guessed I was gay long before I'd ever been with Draco. _Huh. She could have told me before, eh?_

Ron was harder, but we got through things all right. He came to be okay with my homosexuality, though it took a bit of time, and I'm betting some persuasion from Hermione. We got as far as we could go with understanding, I suppose, when we took to the conversation. It was quickly summed up when Ron said: "Harry, it's not so much that you're gay that shocked me. That's good for you, you know, if it makes you happy. It was just... Harry, you got with the bloody Ferret, that's what bothered me, that's all. You can go and be gay and happy and all that, but... Gods, how could you have been with Malfoy?"

To this day, if I bump into either of them, they ask if I've found myself anyone. I say some lie like, "Oh, sure, met a cute lad over at Gringott's the other day" - or The Leaky Cauldron, or the Shrieking Shack, or anywhere there might be a single human being. I hate lying to them. But if they knew how I felt, really felt, about any of that stuff - love, sex, and dating, etc. - they'd be over every day. I can't have that.

**Chapter Three**

I lay in bed, the clipping on the table beside me. I picked it up again, not able to read the words in the dim light, but vaguely able to see the picture of Draco and his affianced that was with it.

I'd cried my eyes dry earlier, but I knew I could have wept more if I didn't fight it off. Instead I took the clipping and tucked it into the book nearest me, _Quidditch Through The Ages_ by Kennilworthy Whisp.

I turned on my side, slid my blankets up to my chin, and closed my eyes, praying for sleep.

I woke that morning to a tap-tap-tapping on my window. An owl was there, carrying a package for me. It was a box of homemade sweets from Hermione, which was very kind of her, and turned out to be a decent breakfast for me.

I had very little to do today, just to go and check out the latest in racing brooms, perhaps get a new book in Diagon Alley. In a few months were tryouts for the Caerphilly Catapults Quidditch team, as their seeker was retiring. If I wanted to compete, I'd have to make sure my broom was top of the line.

Now that's something I've missed nearly as much as Draco. Sure, I can still fly my broom; sure, I can release my own Snitch in a specific area, but it's just not the same. The rush of the game, the thrill from the crowd, and the way everything ties together so wonderfully.... I've missed the game so much, nearly as much as I've missed Draco, which can tell you how important it was to me.

There's a sign in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies: _NEW Nimbus 3500 Series COMING OUT IN APRIL!_ Just in time for the tryouts, a perfect time to break in a new broom.

I bought a couple of books as well - one of extensive knowledge of the Quidditch teams of Britain and Ireland, recently released, so it's very up-to-date - and a book on sleeping potions, considering how well last night went.

I stopped at the Apothecary and renewed a few of my potion supplies, and then bought several things mentioned in the book for the different kinds of sleeping potions I could concoct. I even went so far as to buy something that smelled like rotten eggs mixed with dungbeetle refuse, but was supposed to be added for a dreamless sleep. _The price one pays to be without dark circles under one's eyes, hmm?_

I got home in time to cook myself a late lunch, and set about fixing up more of my house, cleaning and such. The old Black house - gifted to me in Sirius' will after he was lost - had a great many rooms to sort through, empty, clean, and then set to rights. I'd have given the house up in an instant to have my godfather back, but things just don't work that way for me.

That thought hit me as I was scrubbing down an old tea tray, the muggle way with polish and rag instead of just using a quick spell. _It's lucky then, isn't it?_ I thought, swallowing hard and continuing my cleaning. _Had Draco stayed with me, he'd probably have been killed by something, too. Everything I love dies, save Hermione and Ron. And even they're probably safe, living so far off from me. You know me, you're close to me, you love me - you die. That simple._ I bit my bottom lip, imagined scrubbing away my thoughts, and went back to work.

The potion I made that night was strong - I made a double dose, and drank it all straight down, with only a little hesitation. I was out for hours, and woke to yet another owl, although this one was found sleeping on my chest which means it must have been waiting for some time. This time something from Ron's mother: new mittens she'd knitted, just for me. She probably knows I wouldn't have thought to buy such a thing for myself. I woke up, and woke the owl - whose name, by the way, was Persephone, as Hermes had died early on in our seventh year. I fed her a bit of a treat, and sent her on back home with a thank you note for Mrs. Weasley. She was rather nice to look out for me, though I didn't always understand why.

I worked with the sleeping potions for just over a week, coming to find which ones worked best and which were the strongest on their own without doubling the dosage. And, much to my despair one night as I mixed ingredients together for a potion called Dreamless Winter Slumber, yet another owl came to me, one I recognized.

_Draco's owl, carrying a letter for me._

My eyes were so wide when she flew through my open window and hopped onto my desk. Hedwig screeched a bit of a hello to her, and I was quickly taking the letter off her leg, my hands shaking in their eagerness.

_Dear Mr. Potter, it read. Thank you for your congratulations on my upcoming nuptials. Naturally, you can't be expecting an invitation, and as such, I wouldn't send you one anyway. I've told my owl, Cleopatra, to wait for your reply, so please make it quick and short. Draco Malfoy_

I blinked a few times rapidly to clear the mist from my vision. Same old Dragon, he was, dismissing everything with a wave of his hand. I sent his owl off without a reply, intent on sending my missive with a post owl from the Owlery in the morning.

I wasn't going to waste his precious owl's time. I wasn't going to waste his precious time. Hell, I thought I'd finally stopped wasting my time over him. That was it, that bitter letter, the last straw for me. I wouldn't cry for him. Not anymore. And I was done with this moping, this crying, this atrocity of half-life I've dealt with since that bloody morning.

I couldn't kill myself, no, the Boy-Who-Lived isn't capable of such things. But I remember my first potions lesson all right, and now truly only wonder why the thought didn't come to me before. The Draught of Living Death. I have the ingredients, bought for my sleeping potions. So quick, so simple. And then... I'd never have to think, or be, again. All I'd have to do is, blissfully, sleep.

I took up my quill, a fresh piece of paper, and wrote in small letters: _Dear Mr. Malfoy, Thank you for responding so promptly to my letter. And of course I don't plan on attending your atrocious farce of a wedding. Though I do have a quote for you to think on as your big day approaches: "What do you get when you combine powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood on the night of a full moon?" S. Lit_

I folded it up and put it on my desk, so I could send it on its way the next morning, so it wouldn't reach Draco 'til mid or late afternoon. This, truly, was a deliberate madness, but I had nothing else left. Just time to waste, as the full moon was tomorrow night.

I fell asleep, for once, with out the aid of potions, a small smile on my lips.

**Chapter Four**

True, my letter was, in its way, daring him to stop me. But even if he read the letter in a timely fashion, I doubt very much he'd leap on the nearest broom and whoosh his way over to me. And only one of my fireplaces was on the Floo Network, and it's gone unused for so long I barely remember I can travel that way.

I worked with the ingredients I'd need for the Draught carefully once I woke - earlier than normal, even my body was eager for me to get started. I ground the root of asphodel myself, as I'd bought it in its whole form, and had my infusion of wormwood already set up on a shelf of a bookcase. I left briefly to breakfast about ten-ish, and sent the owl after I ate. I returned home in time to mix the ingredients in my cauldron and to let it simmer for the rest of the day to ensure it was well blended. I'd even added a few drops from another powerful potion I'd mixed - Dreamless Quiet was the spell. If I was to live forever asleep as I planned, I didn't want any dreams. I read my sleeping book over and over, making sure I could add this potion to the Draught and ensure that both worked together, seamlessly.

The Draught was as strong as I dared make it, the potion bubbling thick and ugly in my cauldron, and I stirred more Dreamless Quiet into it, slowly, so it would be perfect together. I poured the foul liquid into two vials, as that's all that it had simmered down to, and hid the vials in a drawer to cool. One vial would put me to sleep; two vials would keep me asleep, in a coma-like state 'til death. And only someone who knew exactly what I'd mixed to make my potion - exactly the amounts, the ingredients, and the strength of it - could make any kind of antidote to wake me. That spell, if there is one, wouldn't be commonly known, and I doubted anyone would find it to wake me anyway.

After tucking them away, I left my house in search of dinner. My plan firmly set in my mind, I was feeling the happiest I'd been in a long time. I couldn't stop smiling, I looked like an idiot, I'm sure.

I ate well, felt rested, and headed home with a bounce in my step.

The vials were well and cool by the time I got home. I took out some parchment, and began to write my goodbye letters.

_Dear Ron and Hermione, Do me a favor, okay? Just let me sleep, and don't cry for me. I know there's a lot I've kept hidden from the two of you, but I couldn't keep doing it, not anymore. It just had to stop, and I had to stop it. Well, if it's any small comfort, look at it this way - at least I'm not dead, right? Long and happy lives to you. Love you both. Harry_

_Dear Mr. Malfoy, It is to my deepest regret that you didn't answer my question in my previous letter. I hope you've now come to understand exactly what I meant. Again, lastly, congratulations on your marriage. I hope all the little bastards you and your wife create are just like you. S. Lit --p.s. Yet another quote for you to think on: "As the moon shone bright in the night sky, all that was lit seemed dim in comparison, and the shadows grew as dragons, devouring all good that covered the land until there was nothing but darkness left."_

I left them on my desk, with Ron and Hermione's letter wrapped around Draco's so they could give it to him. I even charmed them, so nobody but those one of we four could open the outside letter. I don't care if they read the one for Draco, or if by some miracle he comes and reads theirs. I don't have to care about anything anymore.

I slipped out of my day clothes, and into soft, dark pajamas. I brushed my teeth, and pushed a hand through my unruly hair, smiling at my reflection. I reached out and drew my forefinger down the image's face in the mirror. _This'll be the last time I ever have to look at your face_ , I thought.

I got into bed and looked up at the sky, the moon visible from my window. Then I laughed and cursed, pushed away the covers, and went to get my vials from their places. I took the cup on my nightstand and poured the liquid in, moving the cup in little circles so I could watch the liquid swirl.

That's when the noise came. The bloody downstairs picture started putting up a racket, shouting at or about something or someone. Normally I could ignore it, but not tonight, no, this was my night. I started down the hallway, cup in one hand and wand in the other, ready to have a rant with her. I stomped over to her picture, put my wand to her nose, and said, in a hissing, menacing little voice:

" _Shut the bloody hell up, you tosser, tonight's my night and you're bloody well not going to ruin it!_ " She blinked at me for a moment, and then opened her mouth, presumably to yell again. "Do it," I said, teeth clenched. "I'll shred you so fast..."

That's when I heard the banging at the front door. "Go away!" I shouted. "I'm busy!"

"Harry!" I heard, in a voice unfamiliar.

"I said, you bloody bugger, go away! The door's locked, I'm not letting you in. I don't care who you are, but go away!"

"Alohomora!" There was a bit of light flashing through the keyhole, and the next thing I know, the door's being shoved open.

"What the bloody fuck is this, can't a person get a bit of privacy in his own...?" My words trailed off as Draco Malfoy came into the room, his face flushed and angry.

"That's what I fucking want to know, Potter, _what the bloody fuck is this?_ " Draco said, angrily walking towards me, the letter I sent him being gripped tightly in his fist. "What the hell's this supposed to mean?"

Suddenly I was so tired. "It means I'm sick of this shite, Malfoy. I'm tired of feeling down, depressed, half-alive, because you want to go and be with someone else. Whereas I've never been with anyone but you, and afterward never wanted to be with anyone besides you. So I'm just bloody tired. I'll take you kindly to leave my property, as I'll be here for a bit of time yet, and wouldn't like anything broken. Good night."

"Potter," Draco started, moving to put a hand on my arm.

"You're not stopping me, Malfoy. It's too late now." My wand arm was out in a flash, and before he could blink, I'd cast the Leg-Locker Curse on him and had bolted up the stairs.

"Harry Potter, what the hell do you think you're doing!" I heard him yell as I ran down the hallway and into my room, locking the door behind me. He couldn't easily know which room was mine, and by the time he found me, it would be too late.

I sighed, and slipped back into bed, seconds after which I heard Draco's shouting stop. He was probably sneaking about, trying to figure out which room I was in. I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking over my life, all the things I would miss. Blast, I'd forgotten I'd have to miss trying out for the Catapults. I frowned, then shrugged. _Who says I'd have ever made it to the Quidditch World Cup anyway?_

I took up my wand hand to steady my shaky left one as I brought the cup up from my lap to my mouth, ready to drink.

" _Alohomora!_ "

My door burst in, and there was Draco, wand out and at the ready. " _Expelliarmus!_ " My wand flew out of my hand, making me drop the cup of potion onto my pajamas.

"Dammit! Wasted!" I shouted, holding the damp and sticky part of my now-ruined shirt away from my chest. "Do you know what it took to make that? What the hell did you have to go and do that for, eh, Malfoy?"

"Why? You dare ask me why I'd rush over here to stop you from killing yourself?" Gone was the smooth polish of the aloof Draco - this was my dragon at his most emotional, his most vehement.

"I wasn't killing myself!"

"What the hell do you call it then? Comatose for life is as good as dead!"

I barged right up to him, poking him in the chest angrily. "And that's my bloody choice, Malfoy, and you bloody well know it, so why don't you sod off back to your perfect life and leave me be?"

He clenched his teeth, just glaring at me and breathing harshly. I stepped to the side to move around him. His hand shot out and gripped my forearm painfully. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To shower, Malfoy. It's this thing one does to get clean. Or do you think I'm going to tip my face up to the shower head and try to drown myself?"

"Make it quick, Potter, I haven't got all night to spend with you." That hurt in ways I didn't say, but my face showed nothing but contempt.

"Oh, go fuck yourself, Malfoy. Go home, I don't need you here. Like it or not, my life continued without you. I survived the last of Hogwarts without you, graduated without you, and now am continuing to survive without you. If I choose to live my life asleep, I'm still surviving. That's my choice, my way to survive, as I always have. Besides that note, I've never contacted you once after that day. What makes you think I need you now?" I stepped past him and into the hallway, heading for the shower. Malfoy didn't follow me. I left him in my room, his face even paler than normal. I didn't even have to look back to know he wasn't following me - he wouldn't follow anyone, because they were supposed to be the ones chasing him.

I started the shower, and stripped off my clothes, then stepped under the slightly too hot spray. The water beat down over the back of my head, down my shoulders, down my body, into the drain as I stared at it, unmoving. I was still breathing harshly, angry words in my head.

**Chapter Five**

After a quick, rough scrub down, I toweled off. I hooked the towel around my waist and headed back to my room for my clothes. Draco could have left, and I wasn't entirely sure I cared. I pushed open my bedroom door, and he was still there, sitting on my bed with his head in his hands.

"Don't mind me, I just live here," I said when he looked up. I headed towards my dresser for some boxers, and then to my closet for some clothes to throw on. I turned to look at Draco. "Would you mind stepping out of the room or something, so I can change?"

"How do I know you don't have more potion in here, Potter?" he asked, sneering lightly.

"Then face the bloody wall or something," I snapped, turning my back to him. I slipped my boxers on under my towel, then let that drop to finish getting dressed.

I turned to face him, saying to the back of his head, "You can look now."

"Potter," Draco said, gritting his teeth. "Do you have any idea what I blew off tonight to rush to your aid? Hmm?"

I blinked, then went to go sit at my desk. "Does it look like I care?"

"My mother was having Maureen and me over for dinner tonight, and I had to make up some phony business thing to get to you!"

I shrugged, taking out the makings for a letter.

Draco shot up off my bed and stormed over to me, gripping one shoulder in his hand. "Don't you give a damn about anything anymore, Potter? Your life, my life, your friends' lives? Anything?"

I tilted my head to the left to look up at him. "What's it matter to you, Malfoy? You made yourself perfectly clear the last time we spoke."

Draco stepped back and away from me, one hand going to his hair to fist in it and tug, hard. "Goddammit, goddammit! Potter, you can't give up on living just because you can't find yourself a boyfriend. Go out, find one, get a life!"

I swiveled in my chair, looking at him with soft eyes. "Malfoy... go home to your dinner."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me you're going to stop with this nonsense."

I sighed, then gritted my teeth lightly. "You don't get it, do you?"

Draco glared at me.

"I've never been able to bring myself to want after having you. Nobody's good enough, smart enough, handsome enough. Nobody else is you, nobody else is Draco Malfoy. But you won't have me. And I'm sick of simply being by myself. Alone's not always lonely for some people, but it is for me.

"Don't you understand? I've been without anyone for most of my life. I had the bloody, sodding Dursleys - and to them, I was a servant. I had Ron and Hermione - but now they're to be married this summer, and moving to start a new life for themselves in London. I had you - until you wouldn't have me anymore.

"Put plainly, I have several people who come in and out of my life, but I've got no one to keep. So I'm always lonely, and I'm tired of it. I'm just so bloody tired, Draco. Why won't you just let me go to sleep? Haven't you done enough already?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at me, sitting in my desk chair. Probably a sad sight to someone such as him, Mr. Self Assurance, but that's how it was. I felt broken and battered down.

I stood and walked past him to my bed, laying on my side, my back to him. "I'm just tired of everything," I said, closing my eyes and keeping the tears away. "Now go home and leave me alone."

I felt him kneeling on my bed, then his arms were slipping around me, and I could feel him behind me, crying into my back.

"What now, Malfoy? Tears?" I said, opening my eyes to see his hands flat on my upper body.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so bloody sorry.... I never meant to hurt you like this, to do this to you.... To make you this way...." His arms were a tight band around my torso, his face pressed between my shoulder blades. I didn't move.

When I spoke, my voice was hoarse and soft. "Go home, Malfoy."

He cried harder, tightening his arms around me, his hands where they gripped my chest. "I can't.... Say it, Harry, gods, please, just one more time...."

I didn't have to pretend that I didn't know what he was talking about. When we'd been together, so long ago, he'd ask me to say it before kissing me or such other activities. I couldn't this time. I couldn't. I shook my head, slowly.

"Go home, Malfoy."

Those arms so tight around me, I couldn't escape. "No, Harry.... Please, just say it, please...."

I bit my lip, and closed my eyes. Didn't he know how much this was hurting me?

"Please, Harry, just say it, and if you want, I'll leave. I have to hear it, please," he whispered.

I felt a tear slip free from my eye, and knew I couldn't say no any longer. "Why, Draco?"

I felt him shake slightly, when I said it. Pain or joy, I didn't know which.

"Oh, gods, Harry.... You never know what it does to me, what it means to me when you say my name...."

I swallowed. Well, there went hard thing number one. Let's see if he can handle this. "I love you, Draco."

Draco inhaled sharply, then simply didn't breathe for a moment. I tried to turn over, to look at him, but he wouldn't let me move. Then he started breathing again, short bursts, as if this was all too much. I felt him hitch himself up, so his head was near mine, and then felt his breath near my ear.

The softest of whispers: "I love you, too, Harry. I always have." I struggled, forcing him to let me roll over.

"You have? You do? Then why did you do that to me? Why?"

I could see Draco swallow, his adam's apple bobbing lightly. "It was your friends. The pity in her eyes, and the contempt in the Weasel's.... Reality hit me, I guess. That they'd never approve. They'd never try to like me, or like us together. If that's how your friends' thought.... What would the rest of the world think?"

I shook my head again, slowly. "Don't you get it? I never cared what the world thought when it came to you. As long as you were with me, I was happy. I could have handled anything and everything... with you by my side. I'd have fought the world to keep you. But I couldn't fight you when you'd made it so clear you didn't want me. That I was... nothing more than a bit of fun."

Now it was Draco's turn to shake his head, quickly, in denial. "I know I said that, but you were never just a bit of fun to me, Harry. I loved you. I wanted to keep being with you, and loving you, but.... It just wasn't something I could do."

"Why are you here, Draco?" I said, flipping on to my back. Draco leaned over me, looking down into my eyes.

"I'm not so sure anymore, Harry. I thought I'd just come to yell at you, tell you to get your shite together and let me live my life, but.... Then I saw you, in the hall.... _So fierce, my Harry Potter, wand in hand and threatening a painting ___, was all I thought. Then I got angry at myself. _My Harry Potter_ , I'd thought. But you're not. I gave you up."

"Yes, you did."

"She's horrible, Harry. Mother pointed her out to me as a girl she wouldn't mind me dating, but.... It's like Maureen's a horrid mix-breed of McGonagall and Millicent Bullstrode. Quick to anger, vindictive, passive-aggressive, strict about everyone and everything...."

"Then why are you marrying her, Malfoy?"

"Keep saying Draco, please, Harry...."

I sighed. "Then why are you marrying her, _Draco_?"

"Because it's what my mother wants. Me marrying Maureen will make her happy. And, since my father died, that's all I've been doing. Living to make her happy. It's killing me inside."

"Run away."

"And go _where_? There's no place to run to!"

"Tell her the truth?"

"What, that Maureen's a vicious little viper, I hate her, and the idea of coupling and making children with her disgusts me? Sure, she'd take that well, Harry."

"Who cares what she takes well? You're miserable. You don't want to end up like me, do you? I say, do what makes you happy."

"What makes me happy? What if I'm not sure what that is?"

I shrugged, and a tiny smile came free. "Find out."

Draco's eyes went from mine to my lips, and back. I could see him swallow again.

"I know something that's always made me happy, Harry," he said, licking his lips. "Being with you made me so happy, Harry. Oh, gods, my Harry...."

Then he slowly brought his mouth down to mine, giving me plenty of time to get away. We kissed softly, a getting-to-know-you-again kiss. I ran my fingers lightly through his hair, and trailed them down to the nape of his neck, squeezing slightly. Draco moaned, and I used the opportunity to open my own mouth, to taste his.

I could feel one of Draco's hands slipping under my T-shirt, sliding its way up my stomach to my chest, and making my heart begin beating so much faster. Gods, this was wonderful, and how I'd missed it....

**Chapter Six**

We kept kissing, and soon enough ended up losing several bits of clothing. It was a lovely bit of sugar-coated poison, that. I never let him take his pants off, and refused to take off mine. I could tell that hurt him, and it hurt me as well. But he had a life, a fiancée. I wasn’t going to help him live this lie. I told him as much.

We’d stopped kissing and he’d drawn his dress shirt back on. He just lay next to me, staring out the window looking dejected, and that made me sad for him. But I couldn’t go back on what I’d decided.

“Draco,” I said, laying a hand over his. “I can’t let you do this again. I’m not going to let you use me.”

His head snapped towards me, and he frowned angrily. “I didn’t use you, Harry, I told you that.”

I looked at him for just a moment, then started stroking my thumb against his palm. “Yes, you did, Draco, whether you realize it or not. You used me, just like you’re using Maureen. I was to make you happy, as long as it was secret. As long as you got what you wanted. I’m not denying I got many of the things I’d wanted as well, but at least I was honest with you about all of it.

“And with Maureen, you’re using her to make your mother happy, knowing you’ll die a little more inside as each day passes. I don’t understand how you could do that to her. And, if she’s as sharp as you say she is, how she could do it to you. If she’s like you say she is, Draco, I’m betting she knows you’re miserable, and that’s making her the same way.

“Don’t you see what I mean?”

Draco rolled over, presenting his back to me. “I don’t want to talk about this now, Harry.”

“You have to think about it sometime.”

“Just not now, okay?”

I sighed. Would there ever come a time that he’d listen to me, really listen? “All right, Draco. We’ll ignore it for now. But, speaking of now, I’m going to try to get some sleep.” He turned back to smile slightly up at me.

“Sleep, eh?” He smirked a bit.

“Yes, Draco. Sleep. In Sirius’ room, down the hall.”

“No, you can’t....”

“Yes, I can, Draco. I’ve got some thinking to do tonight. So do you. And just because you don’t want to talk about it, doesn’t mean I don’t have to think. And I know as well as you do that if we stay together in this bed, we won’t sleep well.” I stood up, then leaned down over the bed and kissed him, feather light, on his forehead. “Good night, Draco.” Then I headed out of the room.

In the morning, he was gone, and my heart cracked a bit. _His choice, his life_ , I thought. But I couldn’t waste mine anymore waiting for him. Him coming over last night was one of the best things that could have happened, helped me get to a few of the issues that plagued me. Even if he wouldn’t, couldn’t be with me... that doesn’t have to mean I can’t live, right?

**Chapter Seven**

It’s been three weeks and six days since the morning Draco left me again. But I’ve been trying to live now, trying to keep on, trying to not be, simply, half-alive. And no one but a muggle maid or a house elf will ever understand how hard I’ve worked to clean this house since then. It bloody well sparkles.

Draco made his decision, and we both have to live by it. Although I partly wish he’d said good-bye. I might have taken it better this time, now that we've had honesty between us.

Besides cleaning, in the time since, then I’ve been taking up all manner of hobbies to get my life going again. I’ve been training for the Catapults tryouts again, releasing a box of one hundred Snitches at a nearby pitch to see how many I’m able to catch in an hour. In the past three weeks and six days, my record is catching 86 in one hour. It was a great day, not only did I catch that many, but Ron and Hermione had come to town to visit with me. They cheered and watched, and it felt wonderful. It’s odd that I didn’t realize how much I’d missed them until the one day they came to visit unexpected. Kind of nice, actually.

I’d also begun researching what would be necessary for me to take up the Potions teaching position at Hogwarts, since Snape had been discovered as a double agent, and Voldemort reportedly killed him on the spot as an example to the rest of his Death Eaters. If nothing else, seeing as I’ve been so interested in potions in the past year and such, this would be a good way for me to start a career, and stop living off my parents money. It was time for me to think of another career path, in case I don’t make the Seeker tryouts - at least, not for the Catapults.

Today I’d woken up late, and felt a happy kind of laziness I haven’t felt since Hogwarts. I took that as a sign, and devoted my day to relaxation and utter laziness. I spent my day writing in a journal, working on a drawing - which wasn’t very good, by the way - and reading anywhere I felt like. I took time to eat and such, but most of the day was spent in my pajamas, reading, and feeling quite content about that.

I showered around four-thirty in the afternoon, and then set about fixing my supper - popcorn and toaster pastries with chocolate milk, if you’re interested - then took that all up to my room along with my book to eat.

Contented, I reclined against a mountain of pillow against my headboard, nibbling and drinking between turning the pages. I’m not sure how much time passed, as _Heir to the Shadows_ was fascinating, but by the time I finished the last page, I looked out my window, and stared for a moment in shock. It was full dark out, and the moon was well on its way towards its pinnacle in the night sky.

I smiled. _What a great day._ So great, in fact, that I actually felt kind of tired. How is it, on the days you do nothing at all, you can feel the most exhausted, like all of it suddenly caught back up with you at the end of the day?

I set the book on the table beside me, and turned off the lamp I’d turned on for some reason when I came up here. Although I could barely wait to read the last book in the trilogy my book had come from, I thought I’d get some sleep and bask in the glory of a good day.

I’d barely closed my eyes when Mrs. Black - the lovely, horrid, irritable downstairs painting - started up her howling and yelling again.

“What the hell?” I said. “Does she have to howl every full moon or something? I thought her name was Mrs. Black, not Mrs. Lupin!”

Again I snatched up my wand and headed downstairs, thinking of whatever curses could be used to destroy the vile thing.

“Are you completely unable to keep silent, or are you merely stupid,” I said, crossing my arms and tapping my wand on my shoulder.

“Attacking the painting again, are we, Harry?”

I whipped around even as my brain tried to comprehend what was going on, my mouth was dropping open in shock. The painting took a moment to laugh meanly at the expression on my face.

I tried to reply, tried to speak, but what I believe came out was, “...” Also known as not a bloody thing. I stood there, with the love of my life in my doorway, completely incapable of speech. You see, I’d pretty much written him out of my life, deciding that he’d never be able to be with me. And here he was... and I was standing there, my mouth agape, as Neville had when cornered with a question from Snape.

“I know I’m quite a looker, Lit, but you can’t forever be blinded by my beauty, can you?”

I couldn’t actually think, and before I realized what was happening, I’d asked, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?”

I couldn’t help it, and spoke the first smart-ass thing that popped out of my mouth. “Are you here to offer advice on painting removal?”

He cracked a lopsided smile at that. “Sure, why not?”

I felt myself smiling a bit nervously. “Really, though, why are you here?”

Draco’s smile wobbled a bit, and I could tell it was slightly forced, as if he was willing it to stay in place. “I’ve broke things off with Maureen.”

I looked at him, and nodded minutely. “I’m sorry for your loss, and hers.”

He looked away for a moment. “It’s for the best. Although she had a few choice words to throw at me before leaving that evening. And... I came out to my mother last night.”

My eyes widened, and I gasped softly. “What happened?”

“Well,” he said, swallowing anxiously, “she threw a royal conniption, and threatened to take me out of the will. She came to her senses, though, this morning. She remembered, as she told me, that I’m her only son, you know? I’m all she’s got... and she wants me to be happy, no matter my sexuality.”

“You know it’s going to take you actually bringing a boyfriend home to see if she can honestly handle things.”

“I know. But I’ll burn that bridge when I get there, if I have to.”

“Got any candidates in mind? Because, if not, I’ve met quite a few fellows you might like over in The Three Broomsticks. I could introduce you to them, let the word get around that you’re single, you know.”

Draco flushed a bit, his cheeks turning a wonderful reddish hue. “Well, I was thinking, um... If you wouldn’t, um.. I kind of thought...”

I smirked slightly. “No.”

His bottom lip trembled lightly, and he seemed to shrink into himself. His eyes seemed to shine, and I knew he would cry. I knew what he wanted from me, but this time, no way in hell was I making it easy.

“No, I won’t introduce you to any of my exes.”

Draco looked confused for a moment, then looked up at me, his brow furrowed. “You have exes?”

“No, but it was worth a try, wasn’t it?” Even Draco smirked at that. “So, Dragon, how’s it feel to hear properly since you’ve taken your head from your arse?”

Draco, my dragon, grinned at me, and I felt something lift and sigh within me. “Windy.” We both laughed. “So, do you want me to close the door, or shall I fuck things up, leave, and knock again in about a month?”

I pretended to think for a moment. “Shut the door, Dragon, I’m not heating the outdoors.”

How odd. My cheeks had forgotten what this kind of smile was like - and they’re sort of aching now. Weird.

We stood there for a moment, just smiling and looking at each other. Some of Draco’s hair had fallen from behind his ear and - in a gesture that hasn’t happened in over a year-and-a-half, maybe a bit more - I stepped forward a bit, and tucked it back.

In a quiet murmur, I said, “Draco, my dragon.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open slightly. I don’t think he realized that, this time, it was easier for me to forgive.

I watched him swallow and take a step away from me, his hands disappearing behind his back.

“Um, Harry... Do you remember when you told me that you had no one to keep?”

I raised an eyebrow, frowning slightly. “Yes...?”

“Well, I was thinking... I’ve had 3 weeks and 6 days to think, mind you.... If I let you.... Would you keep me?”

I stared at him for a moment, comprehending everything he was saying, but not sure what to say in reply. “Do you realize what you’re asking me, Draco? You’re saying you’d be with me... and that you’d stay with me. For good this time.”

“I know that, Harry. I want to stay this time. Would you let me stay, Lit, would you keep me?”

I smiled a bit. “I don’t know, ask me tomorrow.” And then I grinned, and leaned forward enough to hook two of my fingers in his collar, and tug him towards me. “Come here.”

He gave me a sly smile, and came a little closer. “Why?”

“Because, Draco. I like you,” I replied, and when he was close enough, I slid my hand behind his head, and brought his lips within a sliver of my own. “Draco, my dragon.” I could feel him smiling as I kissed him and the world was right again. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t get better.

**Chapter Eight**

Everything faded away in that kiss. Every sound that wasn’t his, every sense, even time itself. In just that kiss.

Sometimes one can find that, after well over a year of abstinence, you develop a hunger that’s not to be satisfied with a single kiss. In moments I was yanking at Draco’s clothes, buttons popping as I ruined his shirt, needing to feel his skin. But Draco wasn’t any gentler with me, dragging my sweater over my head, then viciously biting my neck as I struggled with the button holding his trousers closed. I hissed out a breath, then a string of curse words as his teeth worked their wicked magic on my skin. I finally got the damn button, then the zipper, and plunged one hand inside his boxer-briefs, wrapping my fingers around him. I could hear him pull in a breath by my ear, and then a moan when I tormented him with my touch.

“Harry, no,” he breathed. “It’s been too long.... I’m too close right now....”

But I couldn’t stop. As I dropped to my knees, I pulled down Draco’s remaining clothes, needing to taste his manhood. I took Draco’s hips in my hands, and his length into the hot, wet cavern of my mouth. I began to sucking lightly, and then harder. Draco put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing hard, and I could hear him taking strangled breaths above me. He started rocking his hips, just a bit, and I knew he was nearly there. I swallowed his come as it poured out of him, draining him of his essence. I kissed my way up his chest, taking a moment to bite both his nipples, while Draco stood there, panting. His hands slid down my arms, then he put them around my waist. I kissed him, gently, and I knew he could taste himself on my lips and tongue.

“Oh, Harry... but I’d wanted it to be with you....” He leaned his head forward onto my shoulder, breathing on my neck.

“Next time, Dragon, you will,” I said softly. I slid my hands to my own jeans, and made quick work of shucking off my clothes. Draco noticed what I was doing, and slipped a hand from my waist to wrap around the base of my shaft. He smirked.

“Miss me, did you, Lit?”

“You have no idea,” I said, laughing lightly. “And since I’ve had to wait so long....” I grinned. “Hands and knees, lover-boy.”

His grinned broadened. “Oh, really?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, licking my lips. “Really.” I took his mouth again, with a ferocity I may not have recognized in myself if my need hadn’t grown so much for him. “Hands and knees, Draco, please,” I groaned when we parted.

I followed him down to the floor, and stuck two of my fingers into my mouth to wet them. “Are you ready for me?” I whispered, pushing them into Draco, wetting and stretching him, making him ready for me. When I took up my wand and whispered a quick spell to make his entrance even more slick, Draco moaned, and his head tipped back from the sensation. 

“I'm ready,” Draco whined after a time, and I slid my fingers from him.

“Good,” I replied. I set myself behind him and eased the tip of my shaft into him, then took his hips hard and thrust the rest of the way in.

I hissed out a breath. _It’s been so long...._ Draco was panting again, his breathing erratic. I leaned up and bit him on the shoulder blade, making him gasp and rock forward. I grabbed his hips again and pulled him down.

“No, Dragon, you’re not going anywhere,” I said, my smile evident in my voice. It was then that I began my assault, pumping into him and making him moan loudly. I could hear and feel our skin slapping together, could hear each moan Draco made, and it only made me hotter. I could feel myself getting closer, closer, so close with each and every desperate thrust.

“Harry.... Ohh....”

I could feel my muscles tightening as they fought my control, readying themselves for my release. I came with a shout, and fell forward, breathing heavily. I moved and fell to Draco’s right, still gasping for air, and Draco gathered me to him, holding me as I shook and trembled.

“Oh, gods, Harry, how I’ve missed you....”

“Well,” snarled the picture of the ever-irritating Mrs. Black, “if that wasn’t the most carnal, disgusting thing I’ve ever seen!”

I dimly heard her, barely paying attention. I felt Draco shift a bit, then say a spell I wasn’t familiar with. The painting exploded, and then I could hear a wand hitting the floor.

I giggled, too weary and happy to be shocked. “What spell was that,” I asked, and even my voice was steeped with pleasure.

Draco kissed my temple and I could tell he was smirking. “That’s just a spell my mother uses to threaten the paintings in our house. She’ll hold up a Daily Prophet, tell them to shape up, or _that’s_ what’s going to happen to them. She’s used that on a couple of them before, too, so they know she means it.”

I snickered, and cuddled closer to him, draping an arm over his chest. I stroked down his side lightly, and he smiled a gentle, contented smile before moving a hand to take mine.

“Ah, what would I do without you? Draco, my dragon, who saves me from vicious paintings.”

He laughed softly. Then I could feel him sigh, and he said, “Say it again.”

“I love you, Draco. I want to be with you, stay with you - always and forever. So, yes, if you’ll let me... I want to keep you.”

Draco tipped my head up to meet his and kissed me sweetly. “I’m yours,” he said.

**End**


End file.
